


Knowing Loss, Knowing You

by cipherfresh



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Internal Monologue, Loss, M/M, Missing Scene, Post-Star Trek (2009), Post-Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Reflection, Sad Ending, Vulcan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28179072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cipherfresh/pseuds/cipherfresh
Summary: A reflection on Kirk and Spock when they lose someone they love. I wrote this for a holiday exchange.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Kudos: 9





	Knowing Loss, Knowing You

The echoes of the warp core are faint, and Engineering is darkened. The lights don’t bother to flicker, and the room is cold, somehow. Spock’s body had been memorialized and shot out to space. The Enterprise felt empty, despite all the hustle and bustle for the funeral arrangements. There had always been this warmth, connection between the two of them, a presence. That was gone, now, the warmth soaked up by the cold radiation chamber.   
Kirk is sobbing. Long, painful bouts that trail out, and he’s got his head on his knees, having sat down by the glass. His nose is running, his cheeks hot and his eyes hurting. This wasn’t a picturesque single-tear-down-the-cheek, his almost pained whines filled Engineering. He was very lucky the ship was still in spacedock.   
Who would have guessed that it would be *radiation?* What a joke. A mystery to scientists when it entered the global stage in the 20th century, and the only thing it did was bring death and suffering. And here he was, the great Captain Kirk, reduced to rubble, suffering, tormented by his own mind and his pain that he’d lost his best friend. Radiation, he scoffed, again, and jerked violently to take a breath. His back was against the wretched glass that he and Spock had pressed their hands against. The chamber was fine, now, not an iota of radiation was there, now.   
A powerful flame of a man had been snuffed out, and he had been doing what he always did- valuing others before him. How very Vulcan of him. Who would have guessed that they would be two pieces of a puzzle? Locking perfectly, a strong human Starship Captain, and the first Vulcan in Starfleet? The first Vulcan-Human, too. He’d never met someone whose soul had been, so, *human*.   
Despite everything, they were friends. The Alpha Quadrant could be a dangerous place if you were going places nobody had gone before, and he found his crew in danger, often. And it broke his heart every time. He could remember them all, from the cadets who were excited to board the flagship of Starfleet, to the Lieutenants excited to get a promotion, to his Bridge crew, his closest friends, and most importantly, Spock. The man who he’d shown his soul to every day for years. He’d confided in him, asked him for help, helped in return, joked with, and always looked out for. Spock, a logical Vulcan who was caught between being human and Vulcan. Despite everything, the dangers of the galaxy, he and Spock were always safe at the end of the day. They were so unlike each other, but had found each other, and they clicked. When he met Spock, there had been this light, a warmth, and it had never gone away. It was gone, now, that the one man in the universe who truly GOT him, UNDERSTOOD him, was dead. And he did it for the Enterprise. Constantly torn between his good heart and practical mind, Kirk found his friendship with Bones and Spock to balance him out. Bones was a dear friend, but he’d been to hell and back with Spock.   
He loved Spock. He did. He should have said it when he had the chance.   
Kirk wipes his face, his back still pressed against the glass. His eyes sting, and his face is still wet.   
He gets up and leaves Engineering.   
\---  
The news that the great Captain-Admiral- that *Jim* had died during an accident while on a rescue mission during the unveiling of the Enterprise-B was harrowing. Spock had been feeling an immense sense of dread since mid-day, like he’d been phasered in the stomach. He knew this intense welling of anxiety was not caused by anything obvious, so he ignored it and continued with the paperwork he’d been assigned that day. He checked the Federation News Service two hours later, and saw a sight that drove a stake into his heart.   
Parted from me, and never parted. Never and always, touching and touched.   
That’s who they were. Jim was the only person to see him, hear him, feel him, *understand* him for who he was. All his life, always pulled between logic and emotion, but Jim was the only person who had him to no personal standards. Spock could relax in front of Jim, despite all the danger they always found themselves in. Spock could always count on Jim finding him. He was incomplete without his Captain and best friend.   
It’s what he would have wanted. Many lives had been lost, so many of them unknown to history, as a result of the Romulo-Vulcan split. “Like the Great Schism.” Kirk had said, fond of Earth history. Kirk had faced down Romulan threats during his legendary five-year mission, and so many of them had resulted in deaths on both sides. Whatever could be done to stop needless death was a point in Kirk’s book.   
That’s why it had hurt so much. That’s why, in 2371, decades into his quest to unify the Vulcans and Romulans, he felt that light. A spark. The warmth he felt when he was talking to Kirk. The warmth when the two of them beamed back to the Enterprise, and he’d always have a joke. Just their interaction, was a reassuring, familiar place. And he was feeling it again, now, which he had only felt when Kirk was alive.   
That was illogical. Kirk had died decades ago. No human could live that long. Illogical. 

\---  
Although they lived longer than humans, Vulcans had not yet cheated Death.   
If only he had more time. He’d lived quite the life, hadn’t he? Ambassador Spock, from a child torn between cultures, his life as a child torn between logic and emotion, his parents who loved him but didn't understand him, his sister Michael, joining Starfleet Academy to Sarek’s dismay, to following the red symbols and being accused of murder, the Red Angel and his sister, then being acquitted, to rising through the ranks and meeting Jim, to the years of danger as he and Jim explored the final frontier, to being promoted and dealing with more Federation politics and dangerous villains, to being brought back from the dead, to being an influential Captain, to the news of Jim’s death, to a man who dedicated the rest of his life to Romulan-Vulcan reunification, to the man who had gone through a rift in time to a parallel universe, and trying to impart whatever wisdom he could to a version of himself who had so much to learn, and the destruction of Vulcan all stayed with him.   
Logic had served him well through the course of his life. But he was an emotional man, he had too many things to bottle them up. One night in his quarters after a particular away mission, helping a child on Hekarus II who was so violently torn between two cultures on the planet, he’d run away from his parents, hurt himself and was bleeding out. Spock had performed a mind-meld with him, and helped the child calm down enough to return him to his parents, and get some Federation intervention. Spock had taken the child’s misery and malcontent, and he waited until they were beamed back up, to get to his quarters and cry.   
He’d sat there, and just let it wash over him. This is what he did in Starfleet, he helped people. After some time, the effects of the mind-meld had worn off, but Spock was left there, sobbing, thinking about his own mother and father, and how discordant his life was.   
Jim had stopped by his quarters later, to complain about writing reports because he, too, was tired, but had dropped his PADD when he heard Spock crying. Spock had tried to get him to leave, but Jim was determined to help him.   
They stayed up almost all night, sitting on the floor and talking to each other, just enjoying each other’s company. It was mostly Jim talking, but Spock didn’t mind. They looked at reports from the away mission, Jim looked at some of Spock’s stuff in his quarters, and after a while, both of them fell asleep, Jim having sat on the ground, running out of stories to recount.   
Telling stories was such a universal thing. He’d spent some time on New Vulcan now, the sun not quite hot enough for anyone’s liking, but enough to keep them comfortable. New Vulcan was his challenge, now, an old man with so much behind him. He felt so much love, for the world, his planet, his best friend. He was alone, now, but he would keep up Kirk’s legacy, Starfleet ideals, helping those who can’t help themselves. He still mourned, though, his best friend, the only man to ever understand his soul.


End file.
